issed from their
thought, had been relegated to my proper position, had sunken to my
future place as a mere servant. Finally Mistress Dorothy arose to her
feet, and, with a brief word of explanation to her uncle, started
forward in the direction of the cabin. A sudden leap of the boat
caused her to clutch the rail, and instantly Sanchez was at her side,
proffering assistance. They crossed the dancing deck together, his
hand upon her arm, and paused for a moment at the door to exchange a
few sentences. When the Spaniard came back he pointed out to Fairfax
the position of the still distant bark, which however was by this time
plainly revealed off our port quarter. The planter stood up in order
to see better, and then the two crossed the deck to a position only a
few yards from where I stood at the wheel, and remained there, staring
out across the intervening water.

"Surely a strange place in which to anchor, Lieutenant," said Fairfax
at last, breaking the silence, his hand shading his eyes. "Bark
rigged, and very heavily sparred. Seems to be all right. What do you
make of the vessel?"

The Spaniard twisted his moustache, but exhibited little interest,
although his gaze was upon the craft.

"Decidedly Dutch I should say," he answered slowly, "to judge from
the shape of her lines, and the size of her spars. The beggars seem
quite at home there, with all their washing out. Not a usual
anchorage?"

"No, nor a particularly safe one. There are some very heavy seas off
that point at times, and there is no plantation near by. Travers'
place is beyond the bend. We'll put up with him tonight; he owns that
land yonder, but his wharf is several miles up the coast. Damn me,
Sanchez, I believe I 'll hail the fellow, and find out what he is
doing in there."

Sanchez nodded, carelessly striking flint and steel in an effort to
relight a cheroot, and Fairfax turned his head toward me.

"Oh, is that you, Carlyle? Where is Sam?"

"Gone forward, sir, half an hour ago. He decided I was safe."

The planter laughed, with a side glance toward Sanchez, who gave no
sign that he overhead.

"No doubt he was right. Port your helm a little, and run down as close
as seems safe to that fellow out yonder, until I hail him."

"Very well, sir."

We came about slowly, tossed a bit by the heavy swell, the ponderous
boom swinging, and permitting the loosened canvas to flap against the
ropes, until the sloop finally steadied onto the new tack. T